Bunny Tales
by FairDrea
Summary: A collection of Bunnymund/Sophie drabbles exploring their relationship after "Paint My World" and the nuances of a relationship - romance, arguments, fun times, loss and love - maybe a few little smutty close calls just for kicks. Enjoy!
1. New

**Bunny Tales**

**A/N:** He'll kill me for the title. I know. But what else do you call a collection of Bunnymund/Sophie-centric drabbles? One word inspired drabble series dedicated to a couple I've become somewhat obsessed with. These all take place after "Paint My World" and are a continuation of the relationship between Bunnymund and Sophie – the ups, the downs, the doubts, the laughs, the tears…you name it. Open for suggestions if you have any!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Rise of the Guardians and make no profit from the writing of this fic.

**New**

_"We'll make this work."_

He'd sounded so sure of himself when he'd said the words, his low voice filled with promise and conviction. He'd been holding her then. Now, he sat across from her at the tiny kitchen table, looking around nervously. He was too big for the chair.

The thought made her smile fondly. She'd been so young when she had first met him, but even now she knew that the little girl she once was had pictured the Easter Bunny as someone much smaller. Someone much less rough around the edges.

But he was big. And he was rough. And he was fully capable of kindness and compassion. He could fight a war against darkness, then turn around and coax a tiny girl too young to understand the wonder around her to paint eggs. He could restore the faith of that same girl years later when it was almost lost.

"So, would this make you my boyfriend," she asked, seeking to ease the tension. "Or would it be bunnyfriend?"

Aster grinned and relaxed. "It's somethin', love."

She felt his paw brush her hand under the table and took it, squeezing lightly. "Something new."

"Something new," he echoed softly.

Like he'd been to her all those years ago – something new and wonderful. Like he was to her now – something new and full of promise. Full of hope.


	2. Flowers

**Flowers**

Flowers were his calling card – a little flair of color and whimsy to show that he'd been there. Sometimes daisies, sometimes carnations. For Sophie, it was lilies. Easter lilies, calla lilies, tiger lilies, stargazers. Each was plucked from where it grew and tenderly placed in a vase that sat on one of the end tables in her living room.

She'd always assumed they were a parting gift. Then, one Saturday morning when she was stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself, she was shown that it wasn't.

Her toe touched the bath rug and up popped a brilliant orange lily, petals unfurling as if to say "good morning."

Sophie gasped and stumbled back, taken off guard. She watched the flower for a moment, waiting for something to happen.

"Aster?"

The only response was the far off bark of a dog. Sophie reached for the clothing she'd brought in with her, half expecting a flower to sprout from the counter top. When nothing happened, she shrugged and pulled the hooded sweatshirt over her head, then lifted one leg to slid on the flimsy pink boy-shorts. Again, the second her foot touched the ground, a flower sprouted right beside it.

This time she swore and jumped back, her elbow hitting the wall smartly and two more flowers growing from where her feet landed.

Stretching over, she grabbed her jeans and pulled them on, laughing in exasperation as flowers popped up around her moving feet.

"Seriously, Aster!" she shouted, not entirely sure if he could hear her or not. She could easily picture his smirk as he watched her prance around the growing garden of lilies.

Laughing, she ran out of the bathroom and into the living room. Lilies of every color sprang up, trailing after her. It looked ridiculous – the riot of colors sprouting from the carpet. She'd have to pick them all, find vases to hold all of them. Having her landlord walk in to this wouldn't end well at all.

She spun, watching the flowers follow her movements in a wild spiral.

"Having fun?"

Sophie gasped and whirled towards the low voice. Aster was leaning against the wall, looking smug and quite adorable.

With a laugh, she lunged forward and threw herself into his waiting arms, sighing in surrender as his mouth easily found hers.

She would never tell him that her favorite flowers were irises.


	3. Rain

**Rain**

Aster hadn't known exactly what it meant to love Sophie, how deep or profound a love like theirs was until he caught her in the rain. Sure, he knew she meant more to him than anything. But this whole love thing…it was relatively new for him. He didn't really get it.

But then the rain came, heavy and thick. The sky was so gray that it was nearly black and there was no wind. Just the constant, relentless drumming of rain. He could hear it even before the tunnel opened up into the woods behind her home. Luckily for him, it had opened beneath a tree, keeping him protected from the torrential downpour for the most part. Sophie wasn't so lucky.

He caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, running for the house with a basket of clothes she'd yanked hastily from the clothesline. Her hair was down and matted to her face, her sweatshirt and jeans well on their way to soaking wet. A few yards shy of the back patio, her bare feet hit a slick spot and she tumbled down, the basket of clothing spilling out over the yard.

She sat there for a moment, green eyes blinking and a stunned look fixed firmly on her face. He covered his grin with a paw to keep from laughing, knowing if she caught him he would be as good as dead. And then, thumping her tiny fists to the ground and causing a spray of muddy water to splash over her, she started using every colorful word she could think of.

Right then, he knew exactly what it meant to love Sophie Bennett – it meant seeing the woman who distracted his every thought sitting in a puddle of mud, cussing like a sailor, looking like a complete wreck and thinking she had never looked more beautiful.


	4. Slow

**A/N:** Thanks for all of the reviews and support guys! I've been having a blast with these two, to be quite honest. My devious plan is to have everyone who stumbles upon this shipping the crap outta this couple! I'm so wickedly evil that its brilliant! Okay, not so much. Lol. But you can't blame me for trying! Also, the fact that my indents don't "translate" to copy and paste on here and I have to space them all is slowly going to drive me insane.

**Slow**

"Do the others know?"

Aster hummed a soft, questioning reply, far too content and drowsy to offer much more of a response than that.

"Do they know? About us?"

He lazily opened his eyes, looking down at the woman who lay on top of him, her head on his chest, her legs twined with his, fingers toying with the tattooed fur on his arms. He took up her entire couch, leaving himself as the only option for her. Well, not the only option. There was the overstuffed chair. She'd thrown a distasteful glance at it before flopping down on top of him and making herself perfectly at home.

"They might. Would it matter?"

Sophie levered herself up and he grunted as her elbows dug in just below his ribs. She turned her head to the side, regarding him curiously. "Don't suppose it would, would it?"

Aster tightened his arm around her, drawing her back down until her head rested just over his heart again. They'd been at it for a good two weeks now, still testing the waters, still trying to stumble their way through a relationship that may have been taboo on several levels.

"Jack knows," he murmured, without really even thinking about it. "Still tryin' to get used to the idea myself."

Again Sophie sat up. Her face was a mask of seriousness, her striking green eyes soft with understanding.

"We'll take it slow," she said. "No one has to know but us. At least not for now."

The plan sounded perfect to him. Unnatural…but perfect. He wasn't used to doing thing slow. He was used to speed, to action. He couldn't remember when he'd last taken his sweet time doing anything. Oh, no…scratch that. He'd taken his sweet time figuring out what it was about Sophie that drew him, and admitting it to himself, and then to her. Okay, so yes…he might have stalled a bit on that one.

She was watching him patiently, her gaze never wavering. He brushed her hair back, resting his paw just below her ear at the nape of her neck. "Get yer elbows outta my sides," he complained.

Instead, she leaned down, her lips moving leisurely over his, driving every last thought from his head.

When it came to her, he could manage slow just fine.


	5. Hearing

**A/N****:**Because really...who doesn't love an accent?

**Hearing**

He was on about something again, his deep voice drifting in and out of the syllables – relaxed, unrushed, a slight undertone that hinted at the conversation taking a turn into somewhat heated in the very-near future. It was so horribly sexy that Sophie couldn't even think straight. She only understood half of what he said. And, if she was going to be entirely honest with herself, she wasn't listening to a thing. Oh, she was hearing him. She was hearing that incredibly melting accent of his and trying to keep the smitten look off her face. She just wasn't _listening_ to a word of it.

She loved Aster to distraction, but she was woman enough to realize _and_ admit to herself that the accent was an added perk. And when he really got going, when the accent became so thick that it was impossible to make out much of anything, it took every ounce of will power not to jump him. Like right now. But of course, jumping him meant putting a stop to that gorgeous accent.

"I mean, he's gotta take the holiday seriously. It's not just about eggs! Got tickets on himself, that one does. Thinkin' his holiday takes precedence over any others. Easter's just as important, right?"

Sophie sat up and blinked, realizing that the conversation had shifted to involve her. She sat silently, her mind racing to piece together whatever words she could remember him saying so that she could throw out the correct answer.

"Sure?"

"Thank you!" Aster nearly shouted, then quickly went back into his tirade. With a sigh and a smile, Sophie propped her chin in her hand and happily went back to hearing him.


	6. Fight

**Fight**

When faced with danger, it is an inherent trait that those facing it have one of two reactions – fight or flight. Aster Bunnymund knew his was fight. Even when he was younger, he would always be the one to jump back at his attacker, often times with as much cockiness as fight. The size or strength of the danger never mattered. He was certain of his own strength and abilities. Anyone who wanted to have a go-round with him was more than welcome, as long as they were okay with the fact that they would probably lose.

He was unaware of the fact that Sophie Bennett was the same way – prone to fight her battles. Not out of arrogance, but simply because she had never known how to face danger any other way. The fact that she had stood in the middle of a room with three Guardians and fearlessly taken Santa's globe should have been a huge indicator of that. And if not that, then the fact that she'd run up to every shouting, weapon wielding Guardian as if she were running up to a trusted relative should have surely told Aster that his girlfriend was not the type to run away when scared.

So really, he only had himself to blame when he attempted to test her.

He was stopping in for a visit when he decided that it might be interesting to take a tunnel right into her living room…in front of her couch…where she might be sitting quietly and reading one of those annoying school books she always seemed immersed in. He knew it was entirely unlike him. The idea was something Frostbite would come up with and Aster sneered slightly when he realized it. He'd never tell the Winter Guardian that he was up to such things. But Sophie really did tend to bring this out of him.

The first thing he saw, and he couldn't help grinning, was a set of orange painted toenails.

_Orange, like carrots,_ she'd told him the night she'd sat on her kitchen counter painting them.

He would never be able to snag that foot and take her off guard. Not unless he moved quickly. His ears would give him away before he even had a chance to do much more that startle her. He leaned back against the dirt wall and re-thought his approach.

_Maybe behind the couch…_

His grin returned and he ducked into the tunnel, shifting the exit a bit. He slipped out of the tunnel behind her couch and slowly peered over the side. Sure enough, her head was bent and her brows were drawn in concentration as her eyes scanned the pages of the book in her lap. A glass of wine sat forgotten on the coffee table next to an open notebook.

Folding his arms carefully across the back of the couch, he rested his chin on them. "Good book?"

He expected a scream. He expected her to drop the book and scramble around a bit. He did _not_ expect her to gasp, slam the book shut, grip it in her hands and whip around swinging which was why he was entirely unprepared when the thick tome connected solidly with shoulder and sent him tumbling sideways with a particularly nasty slur.

Sophie looked over the side of the couch, the book still clasped firmly in her hand incase her "attacker" chose to strike again. When she was it was Aster, a mired of relief, irritation and sympathy flitted across her face.

"What exactly made you think that would be a good idea?"

He rubbed his shoulder, glaring up at her, silently admiring her. "Crickey, Sheila, I didn't expect ya to wallop me!"

"Well…I guess now you know better," she said cheekily.

He waited for her to turn around before he grinned. He _did_ know better. Next time, he'd duck.


	7. Normal

**Normal**

She no longer had the slightest clue what she was doing. She was 23 years old, attending college…and dating the Easter Bunny. Dating…the Easter Bunny. She wouldn't say it out loud. Saying it out loud might make her realize just how insane she may have been. It might have made her rethink everything. It might make her think that what they had was nowhere near normal.

What would her mother say? What would Jamie say? Not that Jamie could say much, really. Ever since that fateful Easter, the Guardian's had become somewhat of an extended family to them. He and Jack were about as close as two friends could be. Hell, Jamie had taken a cautious foray into having feelings for a Guardian himself, even having gone as far as to steal a few less-than-innocent kisses from Toothiana that seemed only somewhat one-sided. So the leg he had to stand on when it came to criticizing her for what relationship shenanigans she was up to was a very small one.

Still…

Groaning, Sophie stopped staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and rested her forehead on the cool surface of the glass.

It wasn't just that she was dating the Easter Bunny…she was spending far too much time wondering what it would be like to take things farther than the long, drawn out kisses they shared. So yes, she was dating Aster and thinking about sleeping with him…a lot…more than she probably should have been. She had missed half of the notes from class the other day because of a particularly relentless daydream that had left her breathless and extremely anxious. She'd skipped the next class, replacing it with a cold shower and a good dose of chocolate.

There were special padded rooms and pill cocktails for people like her.

Disgusted with her train of thought and the doubt that had started gnawing away at her, she pushed away from the mirror and nearly stormed out of the bathroom, angrily swiping at the light switch as she left.

As she walked into the living room, her footsteps fumbled and she came to a stop, a hand rising to cover her slowly building smile.

Aster had fallen asleep on her couch, sprawled over it and taking up every available inch of space. One arm hung off the side, the other lay over his stomach and his ears, those ears she could never get enough of, seemed to flop lazily, one hanging over his face and the other slightly to the side.

The doubt suddenly vanished as she padded softly across the floor and nudged his leg, seeing if she could rouse him. His eyes remained closed but he lifted a paw, wrapping it around her wrist and giving a light tug. With a soft chuckle, she lay down on top of him, rubbing her cheek against the velvet fur over his collarbone and closing her eyes as his arm came around her waist.

With the doubt no longer clouding her mind, Sophie knew she was meant to be with him. When he held her, she felt like she'd finally found her place in the world. It was right there, with him. It may have not been normal by society's standards…but it would always be normal by their standards.

After all, normalcy really was just a state of mind.


	8. Chocolate

A/N: Sorry! It's been a while, I know. I've been working on something a bit bigger - a spin off of this entire idea in an actual story, though Sophie and Bunny would be the secondary couple. It's a work in progress and a colab with a very dear friend of mine, Melody Winters. So we'll see what happens. A little warning now, this is eventually going to switched to something heavier on the rating...because I miss writing like me. I'm not always the cleanest person and I love me some smut. So we'll see what happens. But, just in case you think this fic disappeared, it probably just went through a rating change. Love to all my reviewers! You guys rock my socks with all your support and kind words :D Now...everyone enjoy a little chocolate ;)

**Chocolate**

She was baking again. It seemed to be something she did a lot of – baking. And there never had to be any occasion for it. She had a terrible sweet tooth and along with that, claimed that baking was just something she enjoyed doing. Sometimes she would follow a recipe exactly, other times she would just start throwing things together to see how they came out. She talked about opening a bakery one day, though whenever she used the words "one day" she never sounded as if she believed it would ever happen. Shame – the woman could bake.

That afternoon the apartment smelled of cinnamon and mulled cider. Aster inhaled deeply, savoring the scent for a moment before heading toward the kitchen to find Sophie. She stood next to the narrow island in her kitchen and the sight of her made him laugh softly. Hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, flour dusting her cheek and neck, one hand idly stirring something in a bowl while the other tilted the half empty glass of wine to her lips – she may have loved baking but she was certainly not committed to doing it in an orderly, wine free fashion.

He slipped up behind her and snagged the glass, finishing off the contents before setting it aside and spinning her to face him.

"Sneaky rabbit," she muttered, her eyes bright.

"I'm sure that wasn't the last of it," he shot back. "What have we got here?"

Sophie glanced over her shoulder at the mess spread over the island counter top. "It will…at some point…be bread pudding."

"At some point-."

She shrugged. Her hands were sneaking up his arms, her fingers combing through the short fur. "I just started. Still thinking over how I want to put it together." Reaching over, she dipped her finger into a bowl and it came up covered in something dark and glazed looking. "Here, try that and tell me what you think."

He leaned over and took her finger in his mouth.

"It's this combination of whiskey, kalouah, and heavy whipping cream. Took the idea of a Colorado bull dog and put it into a mix instead of a drink."

He didn't hear a word of what she'd said. The creamy mixture hit his tongue and he pulled back immediately, closing his eyes. "Is there…chocolate in that?"

"Oh yeah, I added a bit. Not a whole lot. Why? Overkill?"

He shook his head, trying to steady his breathing. Her scent was suddenly overwhelming him – vanilla, orchids, something else exotic. And her skin…her skin was so soft that it was almost painful to touch her. He could feel her veins pulsing beneath the surface-.

"Aster? Are you okay?"

He glanced up and sucked in a breath. Had her lips always been that full? Her eyes always so green and full of wonder? His gaze fell to her chest and he noticed how deep the plunging neck line of her shirt really was. If he leaned over a bit more-.

"Aster?"

"Crikey," he muttered, yanking her into his arms silencing her startled yelp with a kiss. She'd been trying the creation herself – he could taste the subtle hints of it along with the bittersweet bite of wine on her tongue. It drove him further over the edge, heightened his sensitivity until it was nearly unbearable.

Sophie went tense in his arms for only a moment and then she was clinging to him, kissing him back with complete abandon. He could feel ever curve of her body against his, could feel her pulse racing as he broke free, seeking the satin skin just below her ear where it beat strongly below the surface.

He barely registered the sound of something clattering to the floor. It was background noise to the soft moans of Sophie clouding his mind. Had she not said his name, had there not been the faintest hint of doubt that sounded more like a scream in his ears, he would have kept going without even thinking. Instead, he pulled back, taking deep, unsteady breaths and watching Sophie as she pulled herself together.

"Do me a favor," he muttered.

She nodded quickly, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

"Next time you're gonna use chocolate in somethin', warn me."

Her smile was slow and there was an impishness to it that didn't settle entirely well with him. "Deal," she said.

He wanted to feel reassured. Instead, he felt like he'd just given some trigger happy lunatic a free pass to a shooting range with unlimited access to ammo. She had him figured out. And all because of a little bit of chocolate.


	9. Convincing

**A/N:** I know…it's been forever. And I'm really sorry about that. I got the flu, my kids got the flu, Halloween took over for a bit, then hunting season…not to mention pesky writers block. But here's a little something that I felt like putting together because Jack's been visiting a lot around here and leaving his chill in the soon to be winter air. Let's see if I can't make Aster appreciate the cold a tad bit, hm?

**Convincing**

"Come on. You have to admit, it is really beautiful."

Aster stopped glaring at the snow covered ground bathed in the red glow of the late afternoon sun long enough to cast his girlfriend a skeptical look. "Right."

Sophie leaned against him, looping her arm through his. She was on her second day of being snowed in after what specialists deemed a freak blizzard had hit Burgess early Wednesday morning and Aster was seriously starting to wonder who was crazier – Jack for throwing together a storm of such ferocity or Sophie for finding it beautiful.

"Do you think the moon will be full tonight? I love the way it turns snow that blue color and makes everything look so…peaceful."

"You're callin' a blizzard peaceful, love," he muttered.

"Well, when you're in the right place and snowed in with the right person, it is," she argued, then pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes narrowed in that shrewd way he never entirely trusted. "You're not looking at this the right way."

"Is there some other way to look at a pile of freezing snow?"

Sophie sighed and pulled away from him. "Yes, there is. Do me a favor – turn the couch so that it faces the door and start a fire."

Without another word, she walked away, disappearing into the kitchen and leaving Aster to stare after her in confusion. After listing to pots being loudly shifted around for a bit, he sighed and set to work doing as she'd asked. It didn't make much sense to him, but Sophie always had her reasons.

Once the couch was pulled so that it directly faced the French doors he went to the fireplace fitted into the corner just to the left of the television and threw what few logs she had left into the charred pile of what remained from the last fire.

It didn't take long for the flames to consume the dry timber and by the time he'd settled back, satisfied with his work and silently congratulating himself on not singing any of his fur in the process, Sophie had returned with two steaming mugs in each hand.

She set them down on the end table as she rounded the couch, grabbed his paw and pulled him along until he was sitting with her curled up beside him.

She pulled the large quilt she kept on the back of the couch over them and snuggled close.

"This is how you _should_ be enjoying a snow day."

He gave it a minute then begrudgingly allowed the moment to find its place. With a warm woman that loved him curled up beside him, the heat of their bodies trapped under the thick fabric of the quilt and the fire blazing away in the hearth he had to admit – it made the outside conditions much more favorable.

Sophie moved away long enough to grab the two mugs and pressed one into his paw before settling back against him and taking a slow sip of hers.

"What's this."

The smile she gave him was coy, the look suggestive and teasing. "Hot chocolate…kind of goes with the weather. Still hating it?"

And now she'd introduced an entirely new sensation of warmth to ward off what shred of chill remained.

"Keep findin' ways to convince me," he said, leaning down to nuzzle her neck before taking a sip himself.

"That's the plan."


	10. Pain

**Pain**

Sophie Bennette knew physical pain. She'd become well acquainted with it growing up having sprained her ankle countless times, broken a wrist in a volley ball tournament that had very quickly ended her run for state and suffering countless other bumps and bruises that all came hand in hand with the transition from child to adult.

She knew emotional pain. Though she was small and couldn't even remember what he looked like, she knew what it was like to watch her father walk out on them. She'd stood beside her brother holding his hand at their grandmother's funeral when she was just starting to understand and develop a healthy respect for death. She'd lost pets, she'd lost friends. She'd watched Jamie grow older and separate himself from her which had, up until this point, been one of the more painful things she'd gone through.

But this pain...this was something different. No crying could ease it, no amount of watching television could quiet it and her pitiful attempts to make it go away by consuming the Riesling in her fridge was just that - pitiful.

She lay on her bed, curled into a pillow and sniffling as she stared at the quickly dwindling box of Kleenex. On some level, she'd been grateful that her first argument in a serious relationship had happened when she was mature enough to handle it. No wonder all of her girlfriend's in high school had been such dramatic messes after fighting with or breaking up with their boyfriends. There was no way the mind of an adolescent could properly handle and process this amount of emotional angst.

And it all seemed so ridiculous. But weren't all arguments for the most part?

_"Come on, Soph. Why worry about it? So they dropped your hours a bit. Where's the downfall when ya get to spend your extra time with me?"_

_Sophie ground her teeth and closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the annoyance quickly building inside. It didn't help that stress had been overwhelming her since taking a look at her schedule – or lack of a schedule. _

_"The downfall is when we're spending all of that time in freezing darkness because I can't pay my electricity bill."_

_He'd wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest which really only served to spike the annoyance, not tamp it down. _

_"Aw, I'll keep ya good and warm."_

_She shrugged him off. "This isn't funny, Aster. And it's not something I'm going to ignore. I can't go out and get another job. No one else is going to work with my schedule the way they do. I need this."_

_His eyes narrowed slightly and the smile vanished from his face. "Listen, I was just tryin'-."_

_"Well, stop. Because unlike you, I can't just hop off to the Warren, paint some eggs and ignore reality."_

_"You think that's all I do?" he muttered, his voice so low she barely heard it or the dangerous undercurrent in his tone. "Well, if that's the way it is, maybe I'll just __**hop off**_ _right now and go paint me some eggs. Because we all know being a Guardian's cake. Not like there's millions of children to protect or anything like that." _

_She snorted and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, you go do that. Go play with your eggs, Bunny. Hop! Hop!" _

_He flinched as if she'd struck him. She waited for him to say anything, to fight back and make this entire argument have even the smallest hope of some point. Instead, he glared and turned, storming out of the hallway. She heard the rush of earth and knew that if she followed, all she would be walking into was an empty room. _

_The satisfaction of having the last word quickly wore off. In its place welled a sudden merciless fear. What had she done? _

Three and a half hours, a half a bottle of wine, nearly a box of Kleenex and a pounding headache later, she knew the answer. She'd single-handedly destroyed the one good thing she had going in her life.

There would be no calling him to apologize. And she didn't have the guts to use the globe to go to the Warren. All she could do was cling to the desperate hope that he'd come back and she could tell him how sorry she was for letting stress get to her the way it had. Thinking about him not coming back though-.

Sophie shut her eyes against another rush of hot tears and curled herself around a pillow, willing the anxiety in her stomach to ease and praying for her heart to stop aching. She didn't know if it ever would or how long it would even last. And she wasn't at all sure she could continue functioning through the day if this is what it felt like to lose someone you loved more than anything.

A small shuffling noise caught her attention and she looked up, confused when she saw nothing. It came again, closer this time and definitely lower. Reaching out, she slipped a hand over the side of her bed and used it to pull herself to the edge.

There, standing on the floor beside her bed, was an egg. It skittered to the left slightly, spinning a few times before coming to a standstill and angling back as if it were staring expectantly up at her. Paint covered every inch of its surface and Sophie felt the tears well again when she realized it looked exactly like the egg Aster had first left her when her belief had started to waver.

She scooped up the small egg, cradling it in her hands as she sat up and folded her legs under her. She hadn't destroyed anything. There was still hope.

With a trembling sigh, she hugged the egg to her chest and tried to wrap her head around the hesitant relief that felt as if it were almost suffocating her.

"Soph-."

Her head shot up and she gasped, taken off guard by the sudden tormented voice breaking through the silence. Aster stood in the door, leaning against the doorjamb and looking as miserable as she felt. She set the egg aside and was off the bed and in his arms in seconds, wrapping her arms tightly around him and feeling her tilted world still itself as his came around her.

"I'm so sorry," she managed between sobs, pressing her face against his chest. He held her tightly, hushing her and running a paw over her hair. "I was so stressed out and I didn't mean any of it. I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry, Aster."

"I'm sorry too," he murmured. "I should have tried bein' a little more understanding."

"No, you don't have to be sorry. You were trying to help and I…I had to be the snarky brat that took it the wrong way."

"You're not a snarky brat," he said softly, his smile evident in his words.

Sophie pulled back and looked up at him, grateful that she could do so when only moments ago she thought she'd never get the chance to see him again. She leaned up, meeting him halfway and kissing him with slow desperation.

"Forgive me?" she whispered.

"Always."


End file.
